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In many ways, she still could not believe it, that any would dare to stand against her, that there even existed another power equal or greater than her own. Aeva tried to comprehend the danger she was in, the peril of facing the king of Zebranna, and every time she slept her nightmares were of that blinding figure, arrayed in a raiment of white robes, his pious form dominating as he vanquished her with the Staff. She hated the Staff; she hated it with every fiber of the Ultiplex, and as she listened ever to its dark voices...she feared it would not be enough.

However, the fortunes of Aeva LeVeaux were soon to improve, for her steed rode fast among the Doom-Riders, those legions she had brought with from the army besieging the Coalition. She led three legions of death-knights, wizards of tremendous power, all whom used it to force their beasts onward at incredible speeds. Indeed, it was no surprise that they soon drew near to the adventurers led by King Zabrael, and whereupon they were but a day's ride from having them, out on the open fields in the wilderness, Aeva and the Doom-Riders made camp. Magic was a terrible strain on the horses of her men, and the rest was needed by man and creature alike.

The camp was pitched quickly as Aeva dismounted, finding herself surrounded by rapidly-constructed tents. Riders took their lots to patrol a perimeter and keep watch from wild animals and terrifying monsters, although it was generally assumed the aura of the Ultiplex would frighten any approaching creatures, who relied so heavily on instinct to stay alive. The only things they had to fear were men, for verily, only men could overcome the instinctual call to flee in terror of such monstrous power.

Within her own tent, sitting on a bed of soft, velvet cushions, Aeva relaxed from her exhausting ride. She was more depleted than most, having exerted so much energy in the fury of her discontent. Being enraged, it seemed, was thirsty, hard work, and so it was that she called for drinks to be served, of ale and wine and sweet, fermented nectars. One of her riders entered the long tent with a tray of drinks, from which she perused the offerings and took some water and then some wine. The rider stood there and did not depart, and as Aeva shot him a quizzical look, he spoke up with great urgency in his voice.

"Excuse me, Mistress, but I thought it best to inform you of the latest happenings at our war-camp. Rookbane sends fresh news," he said.

"Ah Rookbane, my delightfully condescending adviser. Pray-tell, what news does his overly ambitious and persistently covetous self have to impart?" Aeva replied cynically.

"He has followed your orders to the letter, Mistress, and fortified the camp with newly erected walls. Several magi aided in its construction, and they are well-equipped to withstand any form of action from the Coalition of the Five-Kingdoms. The full force of our troops, minus those with us here on our quest, are arrayed just beyond the plain of Callisi, and stand poised to launch their assault upon Caliban city as soon as we return with the Ultiplex."

"Excellent," Aeva remarked. "It occurs to me that we shall also return with the Staff of the Evangelistan, and who knows what powers it may have? Still, legends tell that it requires greater magical skill than mine, as I have always been more attuned to the art of melee combat than arcane." At this, the Rider nodded and left respectfully. The eyes of Aeva LeVeaux turned to the Ultiplex once more; she picked it up, staring at it before her, gripped in her hands.

"Verily is this is good news: The army is secure, we shall destroy Zabrael, take the Staff, return victorious and then crush the filthy animals within Caliban city.

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